Bittersweet
by Sandra Phillips
Summary: She still saw them, once in a while.


The wind was blowing lightly, rustling the leaves on the trees high above her. Chihiro tilted her head back to look up with a small smile, watching stray petals drift down like light pink snowflakes. She sighed, but without any reason. The sound of the wind whistling through the trees always reminded her of the sound of water, or of the sound of soft, seaweed-colored feathers in the wind…

She absently adjusted her shoulder bag, full of heavy text books, her neck still craned back. She didn't realize she had stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, staring absently into space, until someone crashed rudely into her shoulder.

"Don't just stand there, Missy," the man growled as he passed, not bothering to apologize. Chihiro snapped out of her reverie and rubbed her stinging arm with a scowl as she started walking again. Her mind quickly turned from the bittersweet memory of the blossoming cherry trees and their soft symphony to the work she had to do, and she found herself striding towards home as her eyes stared at her feet unseeingly. She was sixteen now, her face longer and features more mature, her hair a little darker than it used to be. The high school uniform was too big for her – she was a sprinter, with a small, lithe body, and the sweater she wore over her button-up shirt was always baggy on her thin frame. She was taller than she used to be too, tall enough to stare down at her mother, but she hardly noticed that.

She didn't notice much of anything anymore. Her parents would see her wandering around the house, her eyes glazed as if in memory, and after so many years, would sigh and learn to accept it. Every few weeks, she would pull out a bucket of soapy water and rags and run along the length of their house, washing the floor, her face set in a determined frown. Occasionally, they would spot a tear glistening in the corner of her eye as she worked, but they had no explanation. They passed it off as her missing her old friends, and that she cleaned to release her stress. On the day of her sixteenth birthday, they asked her what she wanted. Chihiro had thought for a moment, her mouth turned down in a cute frown, before slowly asking if they could take a picnic at the old amusement park they had visited first coming to town. Her parents had shared a long, heavy glance, but her father was the one to eventually break the silence.

"They tore down that old place a few years ago, sweety. Said it was a health hazard."

Chihiro's expression had turned to one of shocked, mute horror. Her parents had watched her burst into tears, utterly bewildered at her reaction.

"Chihiro, what's wrong?" her mother had asked her, putting a hand on her small shoulder.

Chihiro had composed herself with great effort, looking up with a thin smile. "It's nothing, mom. I just had good memories of that place. I'm sorry I overreacted. Could I have some dumplings and a bouquet of flowers for my birthday?"

From that day on, Chihiro had known somehow that her old friends were all dead. There was no way the fragile existence between Yubaba's domain and her own could have survived if the theme park had been torn down. The bridge between the two had been severed, at the very least, but she got the inexplicable feeling that the bathhouse and the town with it had collapsed, the tiny universe pulled into destruction. Their promise to visit her would never be fulfilled.

Chihiro stumbled, her toe catching on the sidewalk, and she fell face first for a half-second of heart-stopping terror. She caught herself quickly, her bag swinging in an attempt to unbalance her again, and she straightened with her heart pounding and breath coming hard. It was as she looked up that her eyes met a pair of dark sea-green ones, staring straight at her with amusement and love and sorrow and loss and regret. Dark green hair cropped close to a straight, handsome jawline fluttered in the wind, stray leaves floating around him. His gaze pierced through her, and she knew her eyes were wide and her mouth hanging open.

"Ha…ku…" she whispered.

The oh-so-familiar boy, so much more handsome after ten years, offered her a tiny, sad smile, and turned his back, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Chihiro stared after him for several long seconds, her face slack with shock, until she finally pushed through the crowd and ran after him. Car horns blared as she ran across the street, uncaring as she roughly shoved people out of the way. He had been just there. Just _there, _staring at her, watching her.

She ran and ran and ran, garnering glares and names thrown her way as she bolted down the sidewalk, searching. Her book bag pounded against her knee with the weight of her homework, _thud thud thud,_ her feet thundering on the concrete. Finally, she stopped, doubling over and breathing hard.

_I'm imagining things,_ she told herself. _I must be crazy_. Tears sprang to her eyes uncalled for, and she angrily swiped them away with the palm of her hand, glaring at the ground. But he had been so real. He had been right there, just across the street, wearing a white shirt that he didn't tuck in, looking so nonchalant and belonging right here in her world where she knew he had no right to exist.

The sound of whispering came to her ears as she straightened. She looked up, right into the green bows of the trees that swayed with each gust. She looked to her right, where a small stream gurgled through the park at her side, skipping and dancing over each stone as it passed, singing. The grass bent in the wind. Chihiro stood and watched it all, the breeze tugging at her hair and her baggy sweater. She shoved her hands roughly into the pockets of her jeans, ignoring the tears that pricked her eyes.

_Haku… Lin… _

She turned her back on the scene and walked back the way she had come, her head hung forlornly as she made her way back home. She pushed through her door silently, and the scent of dumplings wafted to her nostrils and greeted her as she entered her home.

"_Want some?"_

"_Thank you. …Haku wasn't here today…" _

Chihiro shook her head to free herself from the memory, taking off her tennis shoes and carrying her bag to her room in the back of the house.

"Chihiro!" her mother called. "You're home late today. Did something happen?"

Chihiro's throat burned, and she steadied herself with a hand on the wall. Her voice was normal as she called back, "No, nothing mom! Sorry, I was walking slowly today. I have a lot of work to do, and my bag was heavy."

"Oh… will you be coming for dinner, then?"

"No… thank you, though."

"Alright sweety. Whatever you want."

Chihiro made it back to her room, her heavy bag clunking on the floor as she unceremoniously dropped it from her hand. She stared unseeingly at the ground for a few seconds, the image of the face she had seen just earlier that day flashing in her mind with numbing clarity.

_Guys… I miss you._

As if summoned, the light breeze blew through the window in her door and brushed the chimes hanging there, filling the room with their high, cheerful sound. Her eyes feel on the hairtie sitting on the windowsill, winking with the light of the setting sun just beyond the windowsill. She smiled weakly and pulled out her books, and soon her head was churning with numbers and letters and formulas, their image fading into the back of her mind to be quietly forgotten.

* * *

A/N: Quicky inspired by a sketch done by one of my favorite authors on DeviantArt. All credit for the picture goes to her! This is kinda crappy, and my OCD side will probably make me go back and fix it later, but here we are. ^-^

Please review with any suggestions!


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